


Klaus's Christmas Carol

by Diana Williams (dkwilliams), dkwilliams



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Ghosts, M/M, Theoretical character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 07:57:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2805275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/Diana%20Williams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/pseuds/dkwilliams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaus von dem Eberbach has hated Christmas for years.  Why?  And can illusionary spirits help him find the true meaning of Christmas before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Very Un-Merry Gentlemen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nomad (nomadicwriter)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomadicwriter/gifts).



Major Klaus Heinz von dem Eberbach stomped through the halls of NATO headquarters in Bonn, a file clenched in his fist.  He ignored the holiday greetings from his idiotic co-workers, scowled at the greenery cluttering up the walls, and winced at the appalling canned music playing over the internal speakers.  When the Major reached the Chief's office, he glared at the festive mistletoe that hung invitingly over the door (the pervert) before knocking briefly on the door and entering his office.  
  
"We have located the information critical to uncovering the Soviet spy network in Spain," he said without preamble, thrusting the folder into the Chief's fat face.  "My source says that it is locked in the safe in the Del Esperanza corporate offices - obviously a cover for the KGB.  My source enclosed a photo of the safe - it is difficult to crack but not impossible for an expert."  
  
"Then Eroica shouldn't have any problem with it," the Chief replied, looking briefly over the folder (and getting stains from his sticky fingers on it, the pig).   "Contact him and offer the standard contract for the job."

Klaus scowled but there was no denying that Eroica was the best man for the job, even if the term "man" was stretched pretty thin with him.  "Very well."  
  
"When do you plan to execute the mission?" the Chief asked, lifting his coffee cup to his mouth for a noisy gulp.  
  
"Tomorrow.  According to my source, the building will be empty all day."  
  
The Chief hesitated, setting down his coffee cup as he said, "You do realize what tomorrow is, don't you?  There's a good reason why the building will be empty.  It's Christmas Day."  
  
Klaus shrugged.  "So?  That will make the mission easier."  
  
"Don't you have other plans?  Your family, your father...?"  
  
Klaus's expression hardened.  "He is in Switzerland this year.  And the mission comes first.  My father knows this."  
  
The Chief sighed and shrugged.  "Very well.  If you can get Eroica to agree, and if enough of your Alphabet will volunteer, then you have my approval to go ahead."  
  
"Yes, sir," said Klaus, snatching back the folder and turning briskly back toward the door.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Major!" the Chief called out behind him. 

Klaus's scowl deepened and he stomped back down the hallway to his office.  When he threw open the door to the outer office to his department, the Alphabet scattered to their desks and pretended to be busy doing whatever it was they were supposed to be working on.  Klaus scowled and glared around the room, although no one but Agent G met his eyes before looking away quickly.  "Briefing in 15 minutes!" he barked, then went into his office and slammed the door behind him. 

Klaus picked up the telephone receiver as he lit a cigarette, and dialed a number that had become regrettably familiar to him over the years.  One of the fop's thieving staff answered on the other end, and Klaus barked out a request for the Earl to be put on the phone.  The minion dropped the receiver and scampered off; Klaus swore, wondering if anyone would come back or if he should hang up and call back.  However, a few minutes later he heard the phone being picked back up and a familiar voice.  
  
"Major?" The Earl of Gloria sounded a bit of out of breath, as if he'd run for the phone.  Klaus hoped it was that, and not that he'd been indulging in one of his perverted habits.  
  
"Eroica," Klaus growled.  "I am in need of you."  
  
"Darling!" Dorian exclaimed.  "I have waited ages to hear you say those words."  
  
"As a thief, idiot!" he snapped.  "There is an essential piece of information that needs to be recovered from a safe.  I need you to open it."  
  
"You only have to ask, Major.  My services are entirely at your disposal."  
  
"Good.  It is a standard office break-in, nothing too difficult.  I have information on the safe," he said, rattling off the model.  "We will have a briefing at 0800 hours, then board a NATO flight to Zaragosa at 0900,  We should arrive before noon - "  
  
"Pardon me, Major, but you neglected to say what day."  
  
"Tomorrow, you idiot.  You should be able to get a flight here tonight - and don't bring the stingy bug with you!"  
  
"Tomorrow?  But - "  There was a long pause.  "Major, perhaps you aren't aware of the date?"  
  
Klaus scowled at the phone.  What was this insistence with the date?  First the Chief and now the Earl!  "Of course I know the date!  I have a perfectly good calendar on my desk!"  
  
"But tomorrow is Christmas!"  
  
"I know that."  
  
There was a sigh on the other end of the call.  "I am sorry, Major, but I have promised the men a really good Christmas, to make up for some rather lean years.  Even James is co-operating - he procured a goose that wasn't yet past its prime.  And we have figgy pudding and crackers and - "  
  
"Do you think I care what you eat?" Klaus said testily.  "The mission has to be undertaken tomorrow.  The building will be empty, and it is vital that we get this information!"

"Major, you know that I would do just about anything for you, but I can't.  Not tomorrow.  Won't it be just as empty on Sunday?  That's only four days away and - "  
  
"No!" Klaus barked.  "It is tomorrow, or you can forget ever being involved in a future mission with my team.  Is that clear?"  
  
There was silence for a long moment before Eroica replied, quietly, "Yes, it's clear.  And I truly am sorry.  Good-bye, Major.  If you change your mind, you know where to find me."  
  
There was a buzzing sound on the phone line and Klaus realized that Dorian had hung up.  He stared at the phone in disbelief for a minute before slamming it back onto the base, cursing sentimental thieves and their obsession with holidays. Now what in the devil was he to do for assistance in burgling the building?

There was a knock on the door and the thought of someone to take his ire out on pleased him.  He barked out, "Come!"

Agent Z opened the door (of course!  they would send him, the cowards!) and behind him Klaus could see the anxious looks of the rest of the Alphabet as they pretended to work.  Klaus's scowl deepened and Z visibly swallowed before resolutely shutting the door and approaching the desk.  
  
"Well?" Klaus demanded.  "What do you and those other idiots want?"  
  
"Sir, we were curious about the next mission - " Z began.  
  
"Cancelled," Klaus growled.  "That damned thief has other plans, and we don't have time to find another operative with his skills before tomorrow."  
  
Z's face cleared.  "In that case, sir..."  
  
"What?" Klaus snapped.  "Spit it out, idiot."  
  
"The other departments are closing early, for the holiday," Z explained.  "We were wondering....If there isn't a mission..."  
  
"You wish to leave early."  
  
"Yes, Major.  If it is quite convenient," Z added hastily.  
  
"It isn't," Klaus replied, scowling at him.  "There is always work to be done."  He paused and his scowl deepened.  "And I expect that you will want the whole day tomorrow as well.  With pay."  
  
"Well, yes, sir," Z stammered.  "It is Christmas, sir."  
  
"I doubt that the KGB is taking a holiday.  However, I expect that none of you will get any work done, just sit and mope, so you might as well get out of my face."  
  
Z's face brightened.  "Thank you, Major!"  He hurried to the door and opened it, then looked back at the Major.  "Merry Christmas, sir!"  
  
"Bah, humbug!" Klaus growled, but Z had already closed the door.    
  
For a few minute, there nothing but chaos in the other room as the Alphabet scrambled to secure their desks, grab their personal belongings, and exchange holiday greetings with each other.  Klaus was glad when silence finally descended in the other room and thought that he might at last get some work done, but then there was a soft knock at his door.  
  
"Enter!" he snapped.  
  
Agent B opened the door, peering into the room as though hesitant to enter.  "We are leaving, Major."  
  
"Obviously," Klaus snorted.    
  
"I just wanted to remind you about dinner tomorrow?  At my house?"  Klaus said nothing and Agent B added, a little desperately, "Everyone without other plans is coming over, around noon.  There will be crackers, and games - oh, and my wife has cooked a lot of good food!"  
  
"Maybe I'll come," the Major said slowly, with a malicious smile at his agent.  He loved to tease Agent B about his wife when he was feeling petty, as B was notoriously jealous.  "Your wife is very pretty."  
  
"Oh!" Agent B said, eyes widening, then he frowned as jealousy raised its head.  "That's - oh."  He swallowed, then added, with a determination to be pleasant for the season, "You would be very welcome, Major."  
  
"I have other plans," Klaus said, shortly.  
  
Agent B's eyes widened.  "Do you, sir?" he asked, clearly amazed by this news.  
  
"No, of course not!" Klaus snapped.  "I find no reason to eat too much food and spend too much money and socialize with people I can't stand during the majority of the year."  
  
Agent B straightened as a little bit of courage stiffened his spine.  "Well, I like the holiday, sir.  It seems that if people would try to be a little kinder to each other at least once during the year, that the world might be a little better."  
  
Klaus gave him a sardonic look.  "You spend most of the year hunting spies and malcontents who would be just as fucking happy to put a bullet in you as blink, and you think that a little Christmas Cheer might improve things?  You're an idiot!"  
  
"Yes, sir, I suppose I am," Agent B admitted.  "But I think I prefer being an idiot to a scrooge.  Sir."  
  
He hastily closed the door and fled, leaving Klaus to scowl at the door in his wake.  Then he shrugged off the whole lot of idiots and turned his attention back to his work.

 


	2. Is This a Ghost I See Before Me?

Klaus put in a few more hours preparing for the Dell Esperanza mission, including putting together a list of specialists in safe-breaking.  It had been a little while since he'd been to Spain, and this time he would be facing an unknown adversary, for rumor had it that Mischa the Bear Cub and a few other KGB agents had been killed during a failed mission earlier that month.  He hadn't been able to verify the information yet, but the sources were fairly reliable.  Finally, having no other tasks to perform, Klaus closed up his office, grabbing his briefcase and coat.  The entire building was quiet and empty, giving an eerie feeling to the place.  Once or twice he thought he heard something behind him, the sound of footsteps, but when he turned around, nothing was there.  He put it down to the odd empty feeling of the place - or the cleaners, who liked to torment him since he made extra work for them by smoking in his office.  
  
The roads were bustling with shoppers still, doing their last minute gift-buying, and his lips curled at the sight.  Wasteful, the lot of them - and most of those same presents would be in the trash or regifted by the day after Christmas.  Finally, he pulled into the driveway of the schloss and parked his car, relieved to be home at last.  The schloss was dark and belatedly he remembered that he'd given the staff three days off since he had thought he would be on the mission.  Herr Hinkel had gone to Switzerland, to spend the holiday catering for General von dem Eberbach's Christmas dinner party.  Klaus didn't mind - he was glad to be rid of the officious busy-body, really - but he hadn't noticed how empty the place was without the butler and maids going about their duties.  
  
The cook had left a wrapped plate for him in the refrigerator, with careful instructions written out for reheating it in the oven.  Klaus snorted - he wasn't an idiot and could handle such a simple task, but he was careful to follow the instructions to the letter.  While waiting for his dinner to reheat, he read the newspapers that had been left for him, making careful note of the international news.  Then he set them aside and attended to the rewarmed meat and fried potatoes with as much enthusiasm as they warranted.

Once he had finished his meal, he carefully washed and dried his plate and utensils, then took a cup of Nescafe with him into the lounge.  He finished reading the newspapers before turning on the television to see if he could find more on the KGB deaths, but there only seemed to be ridiculous and sentimental holiday specials on each channel.  He scowled as he saw the scrawny old man in the nightshirt - not even proper pajamas! - being dragged about by ghosts and snapped off the television completely.  How ridiculous was that - ghosts!  And what a fool to allow himself to be put through such humiliation, just to make him turn all soppy about a holiday that old Scrooge rightfully scoffed at!  Klaus would never allow himself to be subjected to such nonsense.  
  
He turned on some music, finding a classical station rather than the appalling holiday tunes that were on most channels, and he picked up a sensible biography to read in front of the fire.  However, it turned out to be quite dull, and he found himself nodding off before he'd read a quarter of the book.

Klaus wasn't sure what exactly it was that woke him up, only that in the moment he came instantly awake, he knew that someone or some thing was in the room with him.  He pulled his gun, carefully searching the room, but he didn't see anyone.  
  
"That won't be much help, Iron Klaus.  I'm already dead."  
  
Klaus swung around, gun braced to fire, and came face to face with Mischa, also known as the Bear Cub.  
  
"How did you get in my house?" he asked sharply.  "How  many others are with you?"  
  
Mischa put his hands in his pockets and slowly strolled forward - through the coffee table.  "I am alone, as we all are when we pass on.  As for how I came to be here - I was sent."  
  
"Sent by whom?"  Mischa gave a significant look upward and Klaus frowned.  "The person who sent you is upstairs in my house?"  
  
Mischa sighed.  "You are not a religious person, are you?"  
  
"No, I am not."  Klaus leaned his butt against the back of the chair, not taking his eyes off of Mischa.  "And I thought it was against the Soviet world-view for you to believe in organized religion."  
  
Mischa shrugged.  "Dying will change your perspective on things.  Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked, gesturing towards the other armchair.  "This could take awhile."  Without waiting for Klaus's response, Mischa sat down - in the air next to the chair.  
  
Klaus had been rigorously trained and it was only this that kept his jaw from dropping.  "How are you doing that?" he demanded, moving to stand next to Mischa.  He waved his hand around Mischa's head and below him, encountering nothing, then jabbed at Mischa - and his hand went right through.  Klaus jumped back, startled, and swore.

"What are you?" he demanded.  "Are you an image being projected?"  He looked around the room, searching for the source.

"I am a ghost," Mischa said simply.  "I am here to give you a warning."

"A  warning?" Klaus asked.  "Are your men targeting me?"

"The warning is this, Iron Klaus: change your ways or you will end like me."

"What, dead?  Are you threatening me?"

Mischa sighed.  "Do you know what I regret the most, Major?   My son.   He will hardly remember me.  I missed his birthday so many times, and Christmas.  Because the work was more important.  And in the end that was all I had."

"Our work _is_ important."

"Da," Mischa said, nodding.  "But more important than our fellow man?  Than our children?  Than love?"

Klaus scowled.  "You don't make sense."

"Every day we are alive is an opportunity to spend a moment with our fellow man.  To see the beauty in the world.  To feel love." 

"If you are going to spout _nonsense_ \- "

"You will be visited by three spirits," Mischa began.

Klaus swung back towards the fireplace, nodding to himself and putting away his gun.  "That explains it.  I am still asleep.  I am dreaming about that stupid movie."

"Only through their intervention can you hope to change the path that you are on."

"Ja, ja, the ghosts of the past, present, and future - I have seen this movie.  Either I am sleeping or this is a stupid joke."  Klaus swung back around toward Mischa.  "This _is_ a joke.  Eroica!  Where are you?  This is not funny!"

"If you do not change, then you will die - alone, in the line of duty - "

"More than likely," Klaus said, nodding.  "And so?"

" - and _unmourned_."  Mischa gave him an amused look.  "I think that I will be seeing you again, Iron Klaus.  Soon."

And then he disappeared from sight.

Klaus spent the next hour checking all the doors and windows, verifying that they were locked.  Then he examined every inch of the lounge, looking for the projector, but he found nothing.  The only room he didn't search was the large salon, which had been locked for more than two decades, the key on Herr Hinkle's chain, but he verified that the doors were still locked.

"It was a dream," he said out loud.  "Or a hallucination.  Perhaps something in the food I ate." 

Realizing that he was talking to himself, he scowled and went upstairs to bed. 


	3. A Not So Silent Night

It was nearly midnight by the time Klaus finished his bedtime rituals and got into bed, after making sure that the window was open a little to bring in the fresh night air.  Despite the lateness of the hour, he had trouble falling asleep, for the strangeness of the encounter or hallucination or whatever it was preyed on his mind.  Finally, he willed his mind to blankness by singing a nursery rhyme, and he managed to drop off into an uneasy doze.

It seemed only moments later that he was awakened by a cold draft.  Shivering, he reached for the covers, only to find that they had been pulled to the foot of the bed.

"What in damnation is going on around here?" he roared, sitting up in the bed.  "Who is pulling these stupid tricks?"

"Klaus Heinz!" chided a distinctly female voice, one that seemed familiar.  "Wherever did you learn such language?!"

Klaus blinked, then automatically pulled the covers up to his chin.  There, standing in the middle of his bedroom, was one of the nuns who had taught at his boarding school when he was a boy.  She looked just the same as she had when he was a young man, when he'd had a bit of a crush on her, and she'd been kind enough to make him potatoes the way that he liked.  Only he was certain that he'd heard that she'd taken ill a few years back and was in a nursing home.

"Sister Theresa!  What - How - "

"Come, now, Klaus!  You were told to expect me, were you not?"  Sister Theresa nodded briskly.  "Up, up, up!  We have much to do in an hour!"

Klaus, the fiercest agent in NATO, a man that other spies quailed when meeting, the terror of his department - blushed.  "I am in my night-clothes, Sister.  I must dress."

"Nonsense!" she said with her soft laugh like the church bells.  "There is no time - you have a bathrobe, don't you?  Put it on, put it on!"

Klaus cleared his throat.  "Would you - turn your back?  _Bitte_?"

"Really,  Klaus Heinz!  I am a Ghost!"  But she obligingly turned her back. 

Klaus snatched his robe from the foot of the bed and pulled it on, slipping out of bed to tie it securely in the front.  He shoved his feet into his slippers.  "I am ready, Sister."

"Very good," she said approvingly, turning back to face him.  "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.  Your past, in particular.  I am here to show you scenes from the Christmases of your youth."

Klaus nodded.  He remembered some of this from the movie.  "Should I - take your hand?"

Sister Theresa frowned at him.  "Whatever for?"

"So we can fly out of the window?" he replied, a little confused.  He was certain that he remembered that part.

She laughed lightly.  "Why would we do that when we can just - open the door!"

She waved her hand and his bedroom door flew open, and with it came a burst of light and music and laughter.  And the smells!  Klaus hadn't smelled anything that delicious in years - certainly not at Christmas.  He inhaled deeply, identifying the smells of roasting meat and puddings and pastries.  Underlying it was the fresh scent of greenery, of pine needles sharp and fragrant.  The scent of it made his eyes sting and he hastily rubbed at them before the Sister could think that they were tears.

"Do you remember this, Klaus Heinz?" Sister Theresa asked.

"Of course I remember!" he snapped.  "I have not yet lost my memories - unless this is all a hallucination, in which case I have lost my mind."

"Klaus, my liebchen, come here!" came a laughing voice from downstairs, and he caught his breath.

"It cannot be," he murmured, striding into the hallway.  It couldn't be, but it had to be true.  There was only one way that all these sounds and smells could exist in this house.  He nearly ran down the stairs, forgetting about the Sister, and into the large salon that usually was locked and silent.  Now the doors were standing open, the room bright with light.  The largest tree that he could ever remember seeing stood in the center of the room, holding pride of place.  It was festooned with lights and garlands, with bright baubles and the delicate snowflake ornaments that were her favorites.  Ribbons of holly and ivy twisted with red ribbon were festooned along the walls, and a sprig of mistletoe hung audaciously above the doorway.

And there, standing in the middle of all this glory, was his mother.

She looked just as he remembered her.  She was clad in a red gown, like a ruby, that shimmered as she danced about the room, bestowing her decorations.  Her dark cascade of hair was caught up on her head with beautiful diamond combs that his father had given her for a wedding present.  Her eyes, just the color of the greenery around the room, sparkled with joy as she watched a young boy carefully placing an ornament on the tree.  She was beautiful, like an angel.  And he had loved her with all the blind adoration of a boy.

"That's perfect, Klaus!" she said, clapping her hands together and nearly jumping in place with joy.  "Your father will be so surprised to see the tree finished!"

Herr Hinkle came into the room, bearing a shiny silver tray.  "Cook has sent up these, to see if they meet with your approval for the party, Madam."

His mother took two of the cookies off the platter, handing one to the little boy.  He bit down on it with great relish, nodding his approval to his mother.  She smiled and turned back to Herr Hinkle. 

"Tell Cook that they are perfect.  Thank you, Hinkle."  She turned back to the boy and went to her knees so that she could hug him.  "Oh, what a wonderful Christmas we are going to have!"

Klaus watched and was torn between two conflicting desires.  He wanted to watch her, his mother, for as long as he could, to drink in the sight of her.  At the same time, he wanted to run, as far away and as fast as he could.

"She was very beautiful," Sister Theresa said softly to him. 

"Yes," Klaus said, his throat feeling tight.  "She was."

"And kind."

"Yes."

Sister Theresa tilted her head.  "She obviously loved Christmas, made it special for you.  So why do you dislike Christmas so much now?"

"Because she died," he said, barely able to get out the words.

The room went abruptly dark.  The tree disappeared, the greenery disappeared, and the woman disappeared.  The scents in the air were gone, too, wiped cleanly away.  The only thing that remained was the boy, a little older, kneeling in the same spot where his mother had hugged him.

"Klaus Heinz!"

A sharp, angry voice sounded from outside the room but the boy didn't answer.

"What is the meaning of this?  I told you that this room was to remain closed.  How dare you disobey me!  Go up to your room, immediately!  And no supper for you tonight!"

The boy slowly rose to his feet, dragging a sleeve across his face.  When he turned toward them, his face was composed, like a mask.  He went without a word to the door, closed it, and turned the key in the lock.

Klaus stood in the dark for a long moment.  "Are we done?" he asked, finally.

Sister Theresa hesitated, then said, "We have one more scene to view." 

She touched his arm and the room around them disappeared.  Instead, they stood on a snow-covered lawn, outside of a very familiar building.  All around them, boys were running around, throwing snowballs at each other, shouting and laughing and playing. 

"You remember this place, Klaus Heinz?" she asked him.

"How could I forget?" he asked.  It was his old school, and the sight of it made Klaus's stomach tighten.  So many memories, good and bad, were here. 

"It's the Christmas holidays - do you remember those?"

He nodded again, watching as cars drove up to the school, with parents getting out to hug their sons and usher them into the vehicles.  A bus was parked by the steps, for the boys who would be taking the train home.  It quickly filled up and drove away, as did all the cars, until the school was quiet and empty.

"But it's not quite empty, is it?" Sister Theresa said, as if she had read his thoughts.

"No," he said shortly.

"There's one boy still here, a boy whose family doesn't want him at home."

Klaus ground his teeth together.  "I know.  I know!"

As they stood there, watching the school, the front door suddenly burst open.  A young boy, barely older than the last time they'd seen him, jogged down the stairs.  He jogged in place on the driveway for a moment, looking in the direction that the cars and the buses had gone for a long moment.  The road was empty.  The boy turned his back on the empty road and began jogging in the opposite direction.

"I've seen enough," Klaus said roughly.  "I want to go home."

Barely had he finished saying those words when he found himself back in his room, alone.  He lay down on his bed, still wearing his robe and slippers, and pulled the covers over his head.  And this time he didn't even try to sleep.

 


	4. If the Present Is a Gift, I'm Sending it Back

Klaus laid on his back under the covers, unmoving, for what seemed like hours but was probably less time.    He was gradually aware that there was a presence outside of his bed, and then there was the sound of a throat clearing.

"Um, Major?  Are you - are you under there?"

Klaus groaned.  Of all the possibilities, it just would be this fucking _idiot_.

"Herr G," he said flatly.

"Ye-yes, Major.  Um, I don't want to bother you but we do have a deadline."

"Right."  Klaus sighed and flung back the covers, sitting up.  His eyes were dry and clear, and his heart was even harder against Christmas than before the last...visit, or whatever it was called.  The ghosts seemed to be failing in their mission.  "Let's get this over with.  Where are we going?"

Agent G smiled brightly at him and opened his compact, looking into the mirror.  "Oh my!  This should be fun!" he said with a smile.  "If you'll just touch my arm - "  Klaus glared at him and Agent G's smile faltered.  "Or maybe we don't need to do that.  Close your eyes, please, Major."

Klaus sighed but did what the Ghost asked - frowning a little as he considered the logistics of that, because Agent G was definitely alive and well as of that afternoon.  He felt a shift in the air, a sort of shimmer with a scent to it that reminded him of eggnog and nutmeg, and then he heard a very familiar voice.

"Oh look, Bonham!  Isn't it _marvelous_!  So many lovely presents - I just love all the colors of the papers and the ribbons!"

Klaus opened his eyes with a groan.  Of fucking course, they would end up here!  Right in the middle of the pervert's den of iniquity! 

He looked around and, as he expected, saw that they were in the main drawing room of Gloria, which was nearly filled to bursting with a tree and presents and greenery, as well as the band of thieves clustered around the tree.  Dorian was wearing one of those ridiculous outfits of his, all green and red and sparkly, with stupid fake antlers perched on top of his curly head.  His face was animated with delight, and he was shaking a gaily decorated box with his ear pressed close to it.

"Oooh, it makes the most delightful crackle!  Is it - " He ripped open the paper, scattering the ribbons and box lid around him, and squealed with delight.  "That adorable crepe jacket that I saw at Harrod's!  Oh Jonesy, you shouldn't have!"  He put it on over his clothes, thrusting his arms down the sleeves.  The combination of colors should have been ridiculous - they _were_ ridiculous - but somehow it suited Dorian.  Eroica.  Lord Gloria.   "And now you must open my gift!"

Klaus looked over at G but he was watching the festivities with delight, so Klaus gave up.  They were stuck here for however fucking long this would take, so he might as well just make the best of it.  He leaned against a wall, crossed his arms, and watched as Eroica and his band tore through the mountain of presents, laughing with delight and admiring each other's gifts as much as they enjoyed their own.  Their joy seemed genuine, and there was never a word of disappointment when any gift was unwrapped.

It was a nightmare, and Klaus felt nauseated by all the goodwill flowing through the room.  Or possibly he was just hungry.

As if reading his mind, Dorian clapped his hands together and said, "Let's clean all this up and then raid the kitchen - I'm famished!" 

Then men cheerfully gathered together the discarded paper and bows, and as they did so, Klaus could see that one present remained under the tree.  Bonham gestured to it.

"Shall I put this with the others, m'lord?" he asked.

Dorian smiled sadly as he touched the package, straightening the ribbon before setting it back down under the tree.  "No, leave it for today.  It looks so nice there.  And who knows?   A miracle might happen, and he might turn up unexpectedly.  And then, tomorrow, take all of them and give them to charity, Bonham."  He looked unbearably sad for a moment, then dredged up a smile.  "But not today.  I don't want to think about anything sad today.  Champagne and strawberries await us in the kitchen!"

They left the room, arm in arm, laughing and talking about the presents.  Driven by curiosity, Klaus stepped over to the tree and looked down at the sole remaining package.  As he'd thought, it bore his name in Dorian's elaborate handwriting.

"Why did he do this?" he asked the Ghost of G.

"Oh, Major," the Ghost said with a sigh.  "Because he loves you."

Klaus nodded, staring down at the present - the first he'd remembered seeing with his name on it since his mother had died.  It was almost incomprehensible, the idea that anyone would go to such trouble for him.  Then he drew in a deep breath.

"Let's go."

*****************

Klaus thought that they'd go home, that he'd had whatever lesson this Ghost wanted to impart, but he found himself standing on the street outside of an unfamiliar residence.  "Where are we?"

Ghost G gave him a surprised look.  "You have never been here?"

"No; should I know it?"

"It is the home of Herr B, one of your agents.  Have you never visited it during all the years he's worked for you?"

Klaus felt uncomfortable under the cool, assessing eyes of the Ghost.  "No, never," he admitted, and there was a niggling feeling of shame at that admission.  He quickly squashed the feeling; it did not matter what a fool of a Ghost thought about him.

"Then it is about time you did!" Ghost G said brightly. 

Several of the Alphabet were making their way down the street and they stepped up to the house, ringing the doorbell.  Agent B opened the door and welcomed them in, and Ghost G took advantage of this to slip in with Klaus behind him.  There Klaus found that a veritable banquet was spread out on the tables.  He would have said something about the waste and decadence, but he was reminded so sharply of the banquet tables at his mother's parties that he couldn't speak.  His agents were exchanging greetings and small gifts, while Mrs. B made her way through the gathered throng, dispensing mugs of mulled wine with a smile and a greeting.  Everyone helped themselves to items from the groaning table, praising Mrs B lavishly while Agent B beamed with pride.

Finally, there was a lull in the eating and Agent B tapped his spoon against the side of his glass to gather everyone's attention.   "If everyone will fill their glasses, I'd like to propose the usual toast."

There was a bit of a groan and good-natured grumbling, but everyone did as asked.  Mrs. B poured wine and cider, sighing and shaking her head as she did so.

"I will never understand you, my dear," she said.  "I know you are the kindest hearted of men,  but must you really toast That Man each year?"

"And why not?" B said in reply.  "Because of him, we have good jobs and interesting missions.  He may be difficult, he may drive us to tears, but he brings us all back safely.  And so I say - here's to Major Klaus von dem Eberbach!  May he lead us to many more successes!  And may he never send any of us to Alaska!"

There was general laughter and cheering from the Alphabet in attendance as they joined in the toast.  Klaus frowned and turned to the Ghost of G.

"Why did they do that?  Agent B is terrified of me - why would he raise a toast in my honor?  And why would they join in?"

"Because he's a good man at heart, and because your men care about you," Ghost G said simply.  "Good-will is a powerful sort of magic.  The milk of human kindness, it has been called - and it is something that you have drunk too little of in your life."

Klaus scowled and crossed his arms in a huff, but he couldn't help looking at each of the Alphabet that were there in turn, wondering at them.  There was A, watching the rest of the Alphabet as they broke into party games, a bit of a wistful look on his face, and Klaus recalled that he'd lost his wife a few years back, and yet he rejoiced in the happiness of his fellows.  Then there was Z, shy and diffident in the office, but clearly a favorite and at his ease among the older agents.  M and Q were remarkably good at the word games and tongue-twisters, while D was without peer in the rhythm and memory games.  Men that he'd bullied and belittled showed surprising skills and wit and compassion, and he felt more than a bit annoyed that they'd never bothered to show those skills to _him_.

So when the Ghost of G tugged at his sleeve, pulling him away from his observation of an arm-wrestling match, he was inclined to balk.  "I am not finished - "

"But I am," the Ghost said simply, and it was true - Klaus could see that that Ghost was getting thinner and less substantial by the moment.  So he followed the Ghost out onto the street, reluctantly.

"It is time for me to bid you farewell, Klaus von dem Eberbach, and for another spirit to show you what might come," the Ghost said, his image thinning out so that Klaus could nearly see through him.

Klaus scowled.  "Is that necessary?  I see what you Ghosts have been trying to tell me."

"But have you taken it to heart? I have my doubts." 

Ghost G smiled sadly and, as a small puff of wintry air blew along the street, was no more.

 

 


	5. Future Imperfect

As the Ghost of G faded away, Klaus saw a cloaked and scarred figure standing in the street outside of Agent B's house.  The figure was tall and ominous in appearance, just as unpleasant as a Ghost as he was as a man.  Franco Giuliani, also known as Detective Casket, was his least favorite among enforcers of the law.  And since he was Klaus's Ghost of Christmas Future, he knew it couldn't bode well.

"Get on with it, then," he growled at the man. "Show me what you want me to see so I can finally get some sleep.  Damn waste of a night on this business."

Giuliani smirked at him and drifted closer until he could grab Klaus's arm.  His grip was like steel, inflexible, and Klaus knew that he would be unable to give orders to this Ghost.

A chill wind seemed to blow through his bones, making Klaus shudder, and then he realized that they were no longer at B's house.  Instead, they were standing in his department's main office area at NATO.  Most of his Alphabet were in the room, doing a lot of tidying up.  K through N were sorting out files, handing some items over to P for shredding and others to Q through S who were packing them into file boxes.  Agent B was carefully wrapping up a picture of his wife and family before tucking it into a cardboard box that appeared full of his personal items.  Agent G, looking very odd in a regular suit, was cleaning out the drawers of his desk.  Every now and then he gave a little sniff and dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief before returning to his task.  The rest of the Alphabet, with the exception of A and Z, were clearing out desks and tables, taking maps off of the wall, and doing other such chores.

Klaus frowned.  "They must be moving us to a new location.  About fucking time.  These walls need a fresh coat of paint; they are disgraceful."

Giuliani said nothing.  A moment later, Agent A came out of Klaus's office carrying a large cardboard box which he set on an empty table.

"What will you do with those, then?" Agent B asked him quietly. 

Agent A sighed.  "Take them home with me for now, I suppose, then put them into storage.  I asked his father if he wanted them but he said no, and with his lordship gone..."  His voice broke off.

B looked sad and said,  "Still planning on moving to England?"

A nodded.  "I'll be with John Drake's team for a few months, filling them in on the cases involving England.  Bonham will be released in five more months and I want to be there for him."

"Of course."  B sighed and looked around the room.  "My wife is happy that I'm transferring departments since I'll be home every night, but I think I'll miss the excitement."

Agent C said, wistfully, "I'll miss the way he yelled at us and threatened to send us to Alaska."

Agent G sniffed and said, "I miss my dresses!"  He made a face at his suit sleeve, trying to tug it into place.

"Has anyone seen Z today?" one of the newer agents - Klaus thought it was U but it might have been V - asked.

"He wanted to pay a last visit before he flies out to Turkey," Agent A replied.

Everyone sighed and returned to their work.  Klaus turned to Giuliani with a frown. 

"I don't understand.  Why is everyone going to other departments?  Have I retired?  Oh fuck, I've been promoted to a desk job, haven't I?"

Giuliani smirked but said nothing.

Klaus scowled.  "Already I don't like the future.  Show me something else."

The Ghost made a gesture and it was like an ice-cold spike piercing his skull.  His eyes closed tight against the pain, and then he felt a brisk wind around him for a moment before it stopped.  Klaus opened his eyes and found that he was standing in a familiar-looking cemetery.  He'd been there before, when his mother had been buried, and again as a young man when his uncle had died.  He turned in a circle, his eyes finding their graves automatically, and then he saw that there was a new grave.  It was next to his mother's, and the dirt was still fresh over the top of it.  There was no marker on the grave yet, but  he had no doubt as to the identity of the deceased.  If he had, the sight of Agent Z standing before the grave with his head bowed would have confirmed that this was his grave. 

After a moment, Agent Z raised his head and stared down at the plot, fiddling with the bouquet he was holding. 

"I'm leaving for Turkey tomorrow, sir, so I thought I'd stop by to pay my last respects," he finally said, speaking to the grave as if its occupant could hear.  "You'd be proud of Agent A, sir; he's found places for all the men.  He's put you up for a medal, too.  You saved our lives, Major."  He paused and then brought the bouquet out from behind his back.  "These are sort of from Him.  I know that he would be here, if he could."  He laid the flowers down on Klaus's grave then added, quietly, "It wasn't your fault, sir.  He wouldn't blame you for what happened.  He - he had a generous spirit and, well, he loved you."

Z straightened back up, saluted the silent plot, and then turned and strode back down the path toward the entrance.  Klaus watched him leave, then turned back to the grave.  There was a bouquet of roses laid on the fresh earth, scarlet red roses like Eroica favored.  He bent down and broke off one of the blossoms, lifting it to his nose.  Yes, exactly the flowers that Eroica preferred.  He swung around to look at Giuliani.

"The thief - where is he?"  Giuliani was silent.  "Z said that he would have been here if he could.  So where is he?"

Again, the Ghost made a gesture and Klaus felt as if an icy claw had ripped open his body.  He shivered, then realized that he was standing in the snow in the middle of a cemetery behind a prison.  It wasn't a particularly nice looking place, overgrown with grass and weeds.  Many of the graves had no headstones, and those that existed were often crude or broken. 

Klaus scowled.  "What are we doing here?" he asked irritably.  He knew that it had to be illusion but he felt chilled to the bone standing out in the elements. 

Giuliani pointed and Klaus turned to see a familiar figure making his way down the path toward them.  He scowled; the Stingy Bug was his least favorite among Eroica's gang.  The man looked even worse than usual, in his patched coat and trousers, with holes in his shoes.  His hair was in disarray, and he kept looking around him furtively, as if expecting someone to jump out at him.

Giuliani turned to follow him as James made his way through the cemetary to a back corner and Klaus followed.  Here Klaus could see that some attempt at tidying the little plot had been made, and there was even a marble headstone, although the name and dates looked blurry to his eyes.  Klaus watched James pull away new weeds, dispose of the faded flowers in the urn, and replace them with a fresh bouquet of roses.  The stingy bug made noise the entire time he worked, sometimes humming and sometimes talking to the inhabitant of the grave, although - unlike Z - he almost seemed to expect an answer. 

"I heard it was a lovely funeral, m'lord.  A said that all the Alphabet turned out, of course, and many of the other department heads.  There's talk of giving him a medal, not that he would care about that.  A will be coming over next week and I'll bring him out to see you.  He'll be looking after Bonham when he's out, what with his leg and everything.  And I have news of the others!  Jonesy is settled in Australia - you'll remember he had a brother that moved there years ago?  And John Paul has been hired by the Volvolantes as their second chauffeur, so that's good."

He paused and hummed for a little bit, tidying up some more, then sat down right on the mound facing the stone, chatting as if face to face.

"I never liked the Major - you knew that - but he... G says the heart just went out of him after..."  James went silent again, shivering.  He wrapped his coat tighter around himself and laid down on his side on top of the grave.  "I'll stay here, just for a little.  So tired.  So alone.  All alone..."  He started weeping, a thin wail that set Klaus's teeth on edge.

He swung back to Giuliani, advancing on the Ghost.  "What happened to him?" he demanded, pointing back at the headstone that read _Dorian Red, Earl of Gloria_.  "How did he die?"

Giuliani smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant smile, not that Detective Coffin's smiles were ever pleasant.  "You never made it up with him.  Eroica tried to force your hand, working with another NATO team on a job, but they were sloppy.  He got caught: Eroica and Mr. Bonham both.  NATO disavowed that they had been working for them, let them swing.  Bonham got small time, but Eroica - they threw the book at him.  Stripped him of his title, his lands, his money.  They say that he was poisoned, inside, but the truth is that he did it himself."  His smile widened.  "Justice served, and a prisoner's plot."  He gestured toward the grave.  "His family didn't want to have anything to do with him, not even to bury him.  The Volvolantes found out about it later and paid for the headstone.  End. of. story."

Klaus shivered and closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was back in his bed.  It was dark, and cold, and the petals of the rose were crushed in his fist.  He put the flower in his pocket, laid down on the bed, and pulled the covers over his head.  He had some serious thinking to do.


	6. I'll Be Home for Christmas

 

Klaus woke to the early light of day, as usual, and for a few minutes he felt disoriented.  Had he dreamed all of it?   The events of the night were as clear as crystal in his mind, as clear as a movie playing out before his eyes.  But how likely was it to have happened?   He had never believed in ghosts, in the supernatural, in God.  Why would he start now?

He threw back the covers and realized that he'd gone to bed still wearing his bathrobe and slippers, which was odd because he'd only changed into his pajamas before getting into bed.  He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and pulled off one of his slippers.  There, clinging to the bottom, were blades of grass and a little clump of dirt.  Then he reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a handful of red rose petals.

It had been real, all of it.  Which meant that he needed to call that blasted thief and make sure that he didn't do something stupid.  No, he thought, as brutally honest with himself as with others.  What he needed to do was to make things right.   To apologize without actually saying those words, because Lord Gloria would think he'd lost his mind if he said 'sorry'.

Klaus got out of bed and went into the bathroom urinate and brush his teeth, making plans in his mind.  First, call Eroica - no, better to show up in person.  So the airlines first, to book a flight for that evening.  He would stop by Agent B's party first, make a brief appearance and perhaps even respond to the toast in an appropriate but not soppy manner, then the airport.  He would need a car reservation as well - might get stuck with one of those substandard British cars if he didn't specify a good German model.  He started the shower and walked back into his room to set out his clothes for the day and to pack a bag.

And caught a familiar blond figure climbing into his window.

"Thief!" he growled, catching Eroica as he dropped to the floor inside his room and straightened up.  Klaus pushed him against the wall, trapping him there and trying not to show how pleased he was that the thief had taken the initiative and come to him.

 Dorian's eyes went wide, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.  "Major!" he said, bringing his hands up defensively.  "I'm not here to steal anything, I swear!"

"You said that you were busy today.  Christmas celebration with the boys," Klaus said, thumping him against the wall with less force than he usually might have employed.  He wondered if that canvas bag that the thief had set beside the window contained the package for him, not that he cared in particular about the contents.  It had just been a long time since he'd opened a gift, and he expected that he was out of practice.  

"I postponed it, till tomorrow," Dorian replied.  "You - well, you sounded _odd_ on the phone.  Not yourself.  I was...worried."

 _Worried_.  That sounded - nice.  The sort of thing that a person who cared about another person would feel.  He tried the feeling on and decided that he'd felt the same for Eroica.  Dorian.  "So you broke into my house with - "  He glanced back over at the canvas bag.  "With what, exactly?"

"Croissants and strawberries.  And champagne."  Dorian smiled at Klaus, clearly trying on his flirtatious smile to disarm him.  "I heard that you'd given the staff the day off and thought you might be hungry."

Klaus nodded.  "Very true - for a change.  The staff is gone for the day.  I've been invited to Agent B's house for dinner."

Dorian's face fell.  "Well.  Good.  And you're obviously yourself so... I'll just be on my way - " 

He pushed against Klaus, expecting to be released, but Klaus didn't let him go. 

Klaus continued as he rapidly revised his plans in his head.  "I had originally declined the invitation but I've changed my mind.  You will come with me;  Agent B will be delighted to see you."

"Major?"  Dorian was giving him a worried look.  "Are you all right?  Did you recently suffer a head injury?"

"I am fine.  When is your flight back to London?"

"I left the ticket open-ended, in case...well, in case something was wrong with you."

"I am fine.  While I shower and dress, you will call the airlines and reserve two seats for the early morning flight."

"Two?  For tomorrow?"

"Of course, if we are to celebrate Christmas with your gang."  He frowned slightly.  "Make that three seats.  Agent A may wish to go with us; I understand that he and Bonham are...friends."  He quirked an eyebrow at Dorian.  "You will warn your gang that there are to be no stolen items among the gifts.  I would hate to ruin Christmas by arresting you."

"Arrest - Major, are you sure that you are all right?

Klaus smiled, just a hint of a smile, and pressed a kiss against Dorian's mouth.   Then he turned toward the bathroom, glancing back briefly over his shoulder to see that Dorian looked like he'd been pinned to the wall.  He smirked.  This could be very interesting, finding new ways to surprise the thief.  He paused in the doorway.

"Oh, and Dorian?  Save the champagne for tonight.  We shall want it - after."

"After?" Dorian squeaked.  "Major?"

"I prefer to be called Klaus by my lovers," he corrected. 

Klaus heard Dorian give a squeal of delight just before he shut the bathroom door.  He smiled at himself in the mirror, and for a moment he thought he saw the misty reflection of Mischa the Bear Cub in its surface.

"Rest in peace, old foe," he said softly.  "And - thank you."

Then he stripped off his robe and pajamas - after carefully placing the rose petals on the counter - and stepped into the shower.  The future seemed unexpectedly bright, and an echo of a woman's laughter rang through his memories.  She would have liked Dorian, he thought.  Dorian liked fun and beautiful things and Christmas, just like she had.

And just like Klaus vowed to do.  Starting with today, he would keep Christmas in his heart and his soul.  And it would finally be a Merry Christmas for all.

 The End

 


End file.
